


i told you once, i'll tell you again (you really are my very best friend)

by iwillwalk500miles



Category: RWBY
Genre: ...i may be more emotional about this than i've previously let on, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, I'M SAD OKAY?!?!? LIKE FUCK TALK TO EACH OTHER JUST OPEN YOUR MOUTHS IT'S THAT EASY, because oops weiss totally sounds really in love with ruby, but it got a little gay, i mean.... only like about jacques schnee, i meant for this to be a little friendship thing, if you think it's a gay thing that's really funny because weiss is all like 'mY beST friEND', slight spoilers for the new volume, so choose whether or not you want to consider it platonic or romantic, sorry not sorry about the gay, there is (1) swearword, which is like... a closeted gay mood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-19 11:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22710280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillwalk500miles/pseuds/iwillwalk500miles
Summary: “You got your father arrested.” Ruby began.The sound of her voice drifts into Weiss’ ears, lazily layering her in the soothing tones of her friend. There is something about the way the words flow through Ruby’s mouth that make her pause. You got your father arrested. She says, Why didn’t you tell me? She does not.“Yes.” Weiss agreed, “I did.”
Relationships: Ruby Rose & Weiss Schnee, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 18
Kudos: 179





	i told you once, i'll tell you again (you really are my very best friend)

**Author's Note:**

> why.... why can't they just fucking talk to each other?!?!??! ughhhhh
> 
> anyway, the title is from molly birch's "please be mine" which..... doesn't help if you're reading this platonically lmao I also listened to "mystery of love" by sufjan stevens and "je te laisserai des mots" by patrick watson which also does not help

“You got your father arrested.” Ruby began.

The sound of her voice drifts into Weiss’ ears, lazily layering her in the soothing tones of her friend. There is something about the way the words flow through Ruby’s mouth that make her pause. _You got your father arrested._ She says, _Why didn’t you tell me?_ She does not. 

“Yes.” Weiss agreed, “I did.” Not without the help of her mother, not without the support of her sister. (Not without the desire to lift her brother from the slums he’d began to call paradise.)

Now that she thought about it, why hadn’t she told Ruby? The question made her frown for a moment—and she momentarily allowed her thoughts to overcome her. Perhaps she had forgotten? As unlikely as it was, it could be possible, after all they hadn’t had a chance to really _talk_ to each other in ages— _oh._

They’ve been too busy for each other. 

Weiss’ ears buzz, and her mouth fills with cotton—had she truly been worried enough not to bother and tell Ruby _anything_ about her family? It’s like a slap upside the head. 

Weiss had never had a best friend before. It was something that just was, something that she never thought of before Ruby Rose and tripped into her life and proclaimed them such. It was such a strange thing, someone so desperately wanting to be near her, to be _friends_ with her without expecting much of anything in return. Weiss didn’t know what to do with any of it, didn’t know what to do with the affection so easily thrust upon her. 

But she had learned, hadn’t she? She’d learned after countless trial and error, had learned how to have friends—how to have a _best friend._ She’d used that constant desire to grasp at any amount of information afforded to her, and she had _understood_ that Ruby wanted to be friends, had known that Ruby would be there for her as long as she possibly could. 

But Weiss had forgotten the lessons she’d learned. 

She’d allowed herself to be consumed by the endless drain of hope that was her family’s manor—had allowed a black hole of suffering and sadness and complacency to take hold of her and claw its way inside of her. Had she been distant with everyone? She wondered, or had the extent of her rebuilt walls held Ruby out alone?

...she didn’t know. 

(And she despised not knowing.)

Weiss is brought back to the present by the sight of Ruby shifting, uncomfortable or angry or disappointed Weiss couldn’t be sure of. All she knew was that the sight struck her deep, that the way Ruby curled in on herself—the way her eyes shone with something, was intimately familiar in a way that Weiss thoroughly despised. 

Why did the sight of Ruby this way affect her so? Why couldn’t she just spit out the words that she had been thinking? Why couldn’t she just tell Ruby that she had _missed_ her, tell Ruby that she had _longed_ for her presence in her life—had done something grand and turned to tell her about it only to find her side empty. 

_Something must be horribly wrong._ Weiss thought distantly. _If I had not noticed the gaping wound that was the lack of Ruby next to me._

“I’m… happy for you.” Ruby mumbled, and the words are truthful despite the pitiful way the sound, despite the way her voice cracks. 

“Thank you.” Weiss nodded her head in acknowledgement, not quite knowing what else to say. Would it be callous of her to leave? Would it be wrong of her not to ask? Would she be _more_ or _less_ like her parents if she was to ignore the problem right in front of her? What could she even do, to make things between them better? What could she even do, if she didn’t even know what was _wrong?_

“You… uh.” Ruby tripped over her words, and it’s such a contrast to the person Weiss had been seeing lately, such a contrast to the leader that the brewing war had forced Ruby to become. (And she doesn’t know if seeing a glimpse into the past, into the person her partner is or was or is trying to hide, is comforting to her or not.)

She noticed distantly, that Ruby’s features were tinged with red. Her nose, the underside of her eyes, and the soft flush that spreads across her cheekbones and to her ears. There was something… open, about the way she looked at that moment—as though Ruby’s expression had been carved from marble, every subtle crease and furrow in her face expertly crafted to portray an absolute vision. It… It was almost as though there was a notion of restrained sadness in her stone cheeks, a stricken sense of longing and fear and something else that reflected in the silvery mirrors of her eyes. 

“I’ve…” Weiss’ voice is soft, and she can’t help but look away when Ruby’s eyes sharpen and narrow towards her. “I think I’ve missed you.” Because she doesn’t really _know_ if she has, doesn’t know because if she hadn’t _noticed_ that Ruby wasn’t nearby, if she hadn’t noticed the lack of warmth to her side—could she really say with certainty that she had missed her? (Disregard the fact that all she’d known was pain while in Atlas, disregard the fact that her eyes had unconsciously searched for Ruby in every room she’d walked into, disregard her sadness and spite and jealousy.)

The laugh that comes out of Ruby’s mouth is full, full of _something_. (Of pain, of anger, of happiness, of longing, of something that Weiss just _doesn’t fucking know—_ ) And the look in her eyes is brittle, wounded. 

“You think?” Ruby’s repetition is not meant to be mocking, but it brutally slaughters Weiss’ resolve anyway. “Well then, _I think_ I’ve missed you too.” 

She’s glad. (But also she isn’t, because Ruby says those words like they’re more important than Weiss understands them to be, and Weiss just doesn’t _know_ what to do or what they mean or how she’s supposed to reveal to Ruby that she cares for her dearly.) 

“...Alright.” Weiss mumbled, because she can’t think of _anything else_ to say. Had she always been this dimwitted? This oblivious to the people around her? Or had Atlas done something to her, again? There was no way for her to tell, no way for her to understand. 

(And she _hated_ that.)

“So your brother.” Ruby tried to speak, tried to salvage the conversation—to get their relationship flowing like it was meant to. “How is—”

And Weiss shuts her eyes up tightly, fighting back the tears. Because she _can’t_ think of Whitley right now, _can’t_ think of him or his new found hatred for her, _can’t_ think of the brother she loves dearly who _despises_ her and Ruby who she could barely talk to at the same time. 

“Weiss-?” Ruby’s voice is soft, closer than before. “Hey, hey—I’m here, don’t cry.” 

“I’m not crying.” She protested, because she hadn’t cried since she was twelve, hadn’t cried since the day Winter had left her behind. “I’m _not_.”

(But her eyes are burning, and Ruby’s thumb is gently wiping at the area under her left eye, brushing her scar and cupping her face.)

“Hey.” Ruby whispered, words slipping from her lips and caressing her cheeks. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate Atlas.” Weiss choked out. “I _hate_ it here so much, I—” Her throat seized. 

It was _Atlas_ that held her hated father, that held her betrayed brother, her depressed mother, her distant sister—it was _Atlas_ that imprisoned her for so long, _Atlas_ that she escaped from only to be shoved back into a gilded cage with her wings seared from her body. It was _Atlas_ where things had begun to change between her and Ruby, _Atlas_. 

_It was Atlas._

_Atlas. Atlas. Atlas._

And they say that Atlas held up the sky.

And they say that the slippery clouds crushed her shoulders and she struggled to hold them, and they say that she was isolated, and they say that there will never be any need for one such as her.

And they say that in Atlas she held up the sky.

Well it must have just crashed all around her. Must have pinned her down and held her, must have trapped her alone again.

Ruby’s voice was soft in her ears. “I’m here.” She whispered. “I won’t leave you, I swear.”

And the only thing that Weiss can think of is—

(“He’ll be here, Weiss.” “I promise, sweetheart.” “I’m busy, darling.” “The SDC is a gift.” “How dare you.” “What do you _mean_ you _never loved me_ —” “She’d always known, deep down.” “When I was ten—” “Winter, wait!” “Whitley…?” “Your grandfather _loved_ you.”)

—why would she even _try_ and _promise_ such a thing? 

“I’m alright.” She whispered, pulling away. “I’m alright, Ruby—don’t worry.” 

“Weiss you’re crying.” 

“Well so are you.” Weiss reaches up, gripping Ruby’s cheeks and wiping away the tears. “I hardly see how I’m any special, so—”

“You told me once you that the last time you cried you were like, eleven or something.” Ruby protested, tears still streaming from silvery eyes. “You told me—”

“I told you a lot of things.” Weiss began her lie through gritted teeth. “How do you know that they’re all true?”

Ruby reared back, as though slapped, and Weiss wondered if that was the worst thing she could have possibly said. “You didn’t lie to me.” Ruby shook her head, spiked hair falling away from her face. “You’d never—”

“You don’t know—”

 _“Yes I do!”_ The words rip through Ruby’s throat like the claws of a monster. “I know, Weiss, _I do!_ ”

Her claim is full of something, full of an unfamiliar passion that is enough to stop Weiss’ fervent denial in its tracks. She doesn’t know why that phrase, the ‘I know’ is sufficient enough to make her go silent, to stop her from starting an argument in her self destructive desperation. 

Why?

(Because _Weiss_ doesn’t know, but Ruby _does_ —because she _says_ she does, and Ruby simply _does_ _not_ lie to Weiss about the important things, not like Weiss does to Ruby sometimes.) 

“I’m sorry.” The words are gasped out, “I’m sorry—” She draws Ruby closer, draws her closer and closer and closer. “I’m—”

“I know.” Ruby said, wrapping her arms tightly around Weiss’ middle, leaning into the hands that cradle her face—the hands that wipe away her tears. “I know.” 

“I missed you.” Weiss’ admission is a whimper, a press of her face into the crook of Ruby’s neck as she lets go of her cheeks to wrap around her so they were brought tighter together. “I missed you so much and I didn’t _know_ what to do so I didn’t do anything.” 

“It’s okay.” Ruby whispered into her hair, pressing her lips to the crown of her head. “It’s okay.”

They slowly sink to the floor, still wrapped around each other, still desperate to hold each other and whisper words full of _something_ into each other’s arms. 

Words full of something that Weiss doesn’t know.

(Words full of something she doesn’t mind not understanding, for now.)

**Author's Note:**

> hello i wrote this in an hour after updating the TNIAO au because i left it on a cliffhanger and needed some whiterose comforting each other thanks very much, uwu


End file.
